


#AppleWin

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Apples, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Tension, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4952731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://catscradlemorelikebabysbed.tumblr.com/">catscradlemorelikebabysbed</a> sent me this after the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F9GhAecBPwA">apple challenge stream</a>: <i>because you've turned me into egobang trash imagine dan being told about arin's three bite apple thing from the stream and automatically wondering how long arin could deepthroat him for. have a nice day</i></p><p>And I just. Somehow I managed to fluff it up? Hope you enjoy it even if it isn't as filthy as it deserves to be, bby! <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	#AppleWin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catscradlemorelikebabysbed](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=catscradlemorelikebabysbed).



> Big thanks to [oh-hey-big-zam](http://oh-hey-big-zam.tumblr.com/) and [nautilicious](http://nautilicious.tumblr.com/) for doing some super-fast, super-helpful beta work!

Dan’s half-tempted to ignore the raucous laughter coming from the other room; his head is pounding behind his eyes to the tempo of the music in Ross’s _stupid fucking shit-ass fucking goddamn_ levels, and he would honestly like nothing more than to just collapse on the couch and take, like, a three hour nap. Fucking Ross. Fucking Mario fucking Maker. Dan’s going to end up strangling Ross by the end of this play-through – that is, if Arin doesn’t get there first.

His curiosity gets the better of him, though, when he hears something about Arin and… apples? and then another general roar of noise swelling up all at once. Pushing himself off the couch, he walks into the stream room to hear Ross yelling something about a Tyrannosaurus, and –

and Arin’s sitting there in front of the camera, mouth stuffed with with what looks like half of a goddamn apple. His jaw is so wide it’s nearly unhinged and he looks like he’s a breath away from choking, and – okay, _why_ does he have half an apple in his mouth, what weird fucking shit has Brian got everyone doing now, how the _hell_ can he fit that much in his mouth all at once, _J_ _esus_ _C_ _hrist._

Dan’s never had a girl able to deep-throat him for very long in the past, and he’s not the type of guy to push anybody into something they don’t want to – or can’t – do. But seeing Arin like this, it’s like a switch flips on in his mind and immediately, the only thought in his mind is pushing Arin down to his knees, getting those full lips around his dick and stuffing it down Arin's throat, thrusting into that tight, wet heat. _That’s right,_ Dan thinks, dizzily, playing it out in his mind, _fucking choke it down, baby, choke on my fucking cock, that’s it, shit, so good, take me down so good, Arin,_ _J_ _esus._

Which, okay, wow. Dan wasn't planning on confronting his feelings about Arin at any point, ever, subsuming them underneath ever-increasing dick jokes and daddy references, ignoring the fact that nine times out of ten, Arin's face is what flashes behind his eyes when he's fucking his fist in the shower or jerking it to relax at night. But apparently, the universe has other plans, and now Dan's having a goddamn sexual epiphany because of a piece of fucking _fruit_.

It’s absolutely the worst time for Ross to realize he’s standing there, which of course means that’s exactly when Ross’s face lights up in greeting. “Dan!” he exclaims, as Dan tears his gaze away from Arin’s mouth and tries to school his face into something more casual than the dumb-struck expression he's sure he's sporting. “Look how he ate this apple! Arin, show him half the apple!”

Arin turns fully towards Dan, holding out the uneaten half of an apple as proof, lips still stretched wide over the bite in his mouth. “Oh my god!” Dan says, chuckling weakly, earning a raised eyebrow from Arin before he turns back to the task at hand. No one else seems to notice Dan's lackluster reaction, though, and Dan should take advantage of that small blessing and leave while he's still able. He’s got a couple things he needs to figure out right now and a very persistent erection pressing against the zip of his jeans, but he can’t make himself move, too invested in seeing this play out.

The attention turns back to Arin, and what follows is an intense discussion on the logistics of a ‘bite’ and the various techniques involved in accomplishing eating an apple in three bites.

“I’m saying,” Arin says, when he’s swallowed the last of the bite, “like if I put it all in my mouth and there’s a little bit sticking out, can I just –” and Arin makes a filthy gagging noise that honestly, come on, is he trying to fuck with Dan, what the _hell_.

“No, you have to fit the whole thing in, like a – like a dirty, dirty boy,” Ross responds. For fuck's sake, is everyone out to kill Dan? Have they planned this? They've all gotten together and planned this, haven't they. There's no other explanation.

The second bite goes down easier than the first, although there's a lot of maneuvering to get it into Arin's mouth, and a cheer goes up from everyone on the couch. Dan is silent, waiting, watching. The third bite – the last bite – looks tiny by comparison, and Arin mutters, “this is easy,” before stuffing it in his mouth.

Apparently not quite as easy as Arin assumes, because he lets out a low grunt, the sound muffled by the apple, and then starts – shit, there’s nothing else for it, no delicate way to put it, he fucking starts making jerk-off motions in front of his face, pumping his fist towards his mouth like he’s trying to jam the apple down his throat by sheer force.

It’s like all the sound goes out of the room. Dan’s entire consciousness has narrowed down to that fist, to Arin’s mouth gaping open, lips spread so wide around that _fucking_ apple. To the muscles in Arin’s throat working furiously, to his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to swallow the mouthful he’s got. It’s all of a second, probably, before he collapses forward laughing and the moment's over, but it's enough to make Dan sway on the spot.

Then it's over, and everyone is clapping and cheering, congratulating Arin on the apple, and through the buzzing in his ears Dan can hear Brian thanking Chris and Cory for coming on the stream, and that that's all the time they've got, and something something something, Dan really couldn't care less, because –

because just as he's turning to run away to the bathroom, desperate for some privacy to sort through all these images running through his mind, Arin catches his eye. Arin catches his eye and then slowly, not looking away, he lets his tongue slip between his lips, licking them clean.

Then he _winks_.

Dan isn't going anywhere.

The rest of the group disperses, Brian and Ross off to pick up one of Holly's birds at the vet, Chris and Cory to the kitchen to find something to eat that isn't apples. He and Arin are alone, now, eyes locked, in a space that's suddenly far too quiet. Dan can hear his own breathing, uneven and labored.

Arin stands and walks towards Dan, never breaking eye contact, smile cocky even though his cheeks are flushed pink. The way he moves makes Dan think of wildcats, of a tiger slinking through the grass, hunting, silent and sure of the kill. His eyes widen as he realizes that makes him the prey.

“You have a shit poker face, Avidan,” Arin murmurs low, when he gets close enough, leaning in so his mouth is right against Dan’s ear, sending a shiver all the way down Dan’s spine. A hand curves around Dan's hip, the press of Arin's fingers searing through the thin denim.

“I – what –” Dan splutters, trying desperately to save face, but Arin’s not having any of it.

“Do I have to do it again with a banana for you to get the picture?”

Dan covers his face with his hands and lets out something halfway between a moan and a laugh, picturing it even though he tries not to. “Jesus, Arin, really?”

Arin laughs. “Look, dude, I'm just saying, you're stupidly obvious and that's fine.”

“I don't –”

“Tell me your dick's not rock-hard right now, and I'll drop it.” Arin's voice drops down, rough and scratchy. “But I can see it all over your face, how turned on you are.”

Dan groans, peeking out from between his fingers, unwilling to look Arin dead-on. They're so close right now, Dan can see himself reflected in the darkness of Arin's eyes. “You can't see my face,” he mumbles, petulant, and Arin laughs again.

“Is that supposed to convince me?” He shakes his head, hair swinging around his face. “You're being ridiculous, there's not – clearly I'm offering, man, what the hell are you embarrassed about?”

When Dan doesn't reply, Arin reaches up, prying Dan's hands off his face. Straight-faced, he looks him in the eye and says, “look, just fucking pussy up, man, and tell me you want me to suck your dick!”

Dan bursts out laughing despite himself, and the tension eases a little. “Are you seriously – are you really yelling at me to ask you to suck my dick? Seriously? What the fuck?”

Arin shrugs, looking down and away, suddenly sheepish now that the focus is back on him. “I mean...” he starts, then trails off, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his head, and fuckin' – the only word Dan can think of right now is _adorable,_ and _goddamnit,_ he's in real deep.

 _Oh_.

Okay.

Well.

Apparently this is an actual _thing_ , then.

Time to see if the fuck-it adjustment still works.

Dan takes a breath, lets it out slowly, reaches out and grasps Arin's chin with a shaky hand. “If I –” he starts, then falters, going silent, heart racing. He rallies after a moment, tries again. “If I said yes, what –”

The look Arin gives him is so heated Dan could swear the air around them gets a few degrees warmer.

All the breath rushes out of Dan at once, and he nods.

Arin grins.

“Go in the Grump room and wait for me, I'm gonna get rid of Chris and Cory, okay?” Arin says, and Dan practically trips over his own feet in his haste. He can hear Arin laughing behind him but he doesn't even fucking care at this point.

It feels like it's an hour before Dan can hear Arin's footsteps coming down the hallway, but judging by the clock on the wall, it's been less than five minutes. He's got one leg folded up, ankle resting on the opposite knee, and he's beating out a frantic tempo on his shoe, an arrhythmic beat that matches how hard his heart is pounding.

His head snaps up when Arin opens the door, and Arin must see some of the terror on his face because his expression immediately gentles and he sits on the opposite side of the couch, far enough away that they aren't touching, which is so unlike how they usually sit on this couch that it feels _wrong_.

“Dan, if you don't want – if –” Arin lets out a grunt, using both hands to push his hair back from his face. “If this is too much, or if it's not – you know I'm not gonna force you into anything, right?”

The sincerity in his voice soothes Dan's nerves to the point that he stops tapping on his shoe, although then his leg starts jiggling, like it's picking up the slack, nervous energy lessened but still very present, needing some sort of escape.

“I just – I want, but if you don't, we can forget this ever happened and go back to normal, okay?”

Dan almost laughs, but the expression on Arin's face stops him before it passes his lips. There's heat in his eyes like there was in the other room, but there's fear, too, and Dan realizes he might not be the only one scared shitless here.

“Listen, man,” Dan says, “I have... no idea what I'm doing. At all. And I'm not gonna lie, I'm fuckin' terrified, okay?” He does laugh now, just a quiet little breath of it. “I've never – not with – and you're my best – and I just...” He trails off, shoulders hunched up around his ears, folding in on himself. “You know?”

Arin tilts his head in acknowledgement but doesn't say a word, just stares with those dark, dark eyes.

“Right. So. I'm... uh, I'm scared, and I'm totally clueless, which is pretty much par for the course with me, like, all the fucking time.”

Arin snorts at that.

“But I – shit, man.” Dan leans forward, hands fisted into his hair, and watches Arin out of the corner of his eye. “I'm just –” he sighs, “I'm really tired of pretending like I don't want –”

“What, a blowjob?” Arin offers, lips twisted in a mockery of a smile.

Dan lifts his head and glares.

“Fuckin' – you think I'd just use you like that? You think that little of me, Arin?”

Arin has the decency to look chagrined, at least.

Dan drops his head back into his hands. “I'm sick of trying to convince myself I don't want _you,_ asshole, although right now I'm having trouble remembering why.” He's sick to his stomach now. “I should just go.”

“Dan – no no no, c'mon, man, I'm sorry, I just – fuck, dude, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.” Arin's voice keeps rising in pitch as he babbles apologies. “Please, Dan, I'm – dude – fuckin' – will you _look at me_ at least?”

There's genuine panic in Arin's voice and Dan responds without even thinking, raising his head warily and forcing himself to meet Arin's eyes.

“I... Jesus, I am fucking this _all_ up,” Arin mutters, eyebrows knitted together. His hands are balled into fists on his thighs and Dan can't stand it, can't stand the tension and the fear because this – Dan never had a plan, but he's a hundred percent sure this isn't how anything was supposed to go.

Slowly, Dan scoots over on the couch until he's close enough to smell Arin's shampoo, clean and fresh. He reaches out a hand and pries one of Arin's fists open, finger by finger, never breaking his gaze even though he's pretty sure this would be easier without Arin staring him down, wide-eyed, like he's trusting Dan to know what he's doing. When Arin doesn't offer any resistance, Dan tangles their fingers together and squeezes, breath catching at how different this feels than any of the other times they've held hands before. Those had been jokes, photo ops, or reassuring little hand-squeezes during games. This – this is deliberate, and Dan's hand is tingling with it.

Cautiously, he rubs his thumb over the thin skin between Arin's thumb and index finger. Arin's eyes flutter shut and he lets out a long sigh, slumping against the back of the couch.

“We are _just_ the worst, man,” Dan whispers, shifting around so that he can rest his head next to Arin's. The way they're holding hands means his arm is at an awkward angle, but it's worth it. He doesn't want to let go if he doesn't have to.

Arin smiles, small and soft. “I didn't mean it, y'know, I just – I'm an idiot and it came out wrong.” He opens his eyes, rolls his head to the side so that they're face to face, so very close.

Dan smiles back, reaches out his other hand to push a lock of hair off Arin's forehead, tucking it behind his ear before responding. “I mean, it's not the _worst_ attempt at seduction I've ever received.”

“Really?”

Dan giggles. “Only because Brian's propositioned me so many times, and that's just routinely terrible. But that's not serious, so it doesn't count.”

“Yeah, that's what you think,” Arin mutters, then lets out an 'oof!' when Dan hits him in the stomach.

“Dude! You're not helping your case!”

“I'm just saying, man, he wants your b-hole.” Arin's laughing now, deep and genuine, and the sound is so goddamn beautiful Dan can't help but lean forward and press their lips together.

It lasts all of a second, if that, before Arin gasps and Dan pulls back, wincing. He's overstepped, he's fucked up this tenuous easiness they've just gotten a hold of, _goddamnit_.

“Jesus, man, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – I didn't even ask, Christ, I –” he's cut off when Arin threads his fingers through Dan's hair and pulls him back in, and Dan can feel Arin's smile.

“Dude,” Arin murmurs, words buzzing against Dan's lips, making him shiver, “do you not remember, like, twenty minutes ago? Me offering to blow you? Any of that ring any bells?”

Dan pulls back again, slow and steady this time, just far enough to rest his forehead against Arin's. “Yeah,” he whispers, “but that's – I mean, sex and lo- kissing are two different things.” He shrugs, wincing internally, hoping maybe Arin won't notice the slip. “Or – or they can be, with some people.”

He can feel Arin raising his eyebrows even though he can't actually see it; it's too dark inside the cocoon his hair is making around their faces. _Shit_. “Lokissing, huh? Haven't heard of that before.”

Dan groans. “Come on, man, don't fuckin' -”

Arin rubs a thumb over Dan's cheekbone, so softly. “They're different things for some people, maybe,” he allows. “But not for me.”

“Me neither,” Dan breathes. “Me – you know that. Me neither.”

He feels like he's staring over the edge of a cliff, like he's teetering on a precipice; like Arin's hand on his face is both the only thing keeping him grounded and also the thing that just might push him over.

He waits.

“Good,” Arin says, finally, and brings their mouths back together.

Holy shit, Arin's lips are so soft, and Christ, does he know how to kiss. The tickle of his facial hair is a little weird, something he's gonna have to get used to, but it's nothing he can't deal with, not when he's got Arin running his tongue over his bottom lip, slow and filthy, before pressing inside. Dan can't help the whine he lets out, flushing when Arin chuckles low in his throat.

“You like that, huh?” he asks, like it's not completely obvious.

“You taste like apples,” Dan answers instead, and draws him in again, chasing the sweetness.

 


End file.
